


Proof of life

by azziria



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Major Character Injury, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azziria/pseuds/azziria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe today will be the day that Steve wakes up...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proof of life

**Author's Note:**

> Series of fourteen linked drabbles.

**Proof of life**

There's blood, so much blood, it's everywhere, spattered wide across the walls and pooling dark on the floor, sticky red smearing the concrete where Steve had dragged himself inch by agonizing inch across the floor to Danny to shake him into consciousness and make him _move_ , make him get up and get out and call for backup before the gunmen came back to finish what they'd started. So much blood, too much, and Danny drops to his knees and empties the contents of his stomach onto the bloody floor, because how much blood can one man lose and still live?

* * *

**A time to die**

Three a.m. is the Devil's hour, the time when body and soul are at their lowest ebb, when death is most likely to occur. Danny wakes just after three, neck stiff and knee aching, and Steve's still with him. There's no noise except for a faint electronic hum and the soft, rhythmic hiss of the ventilator, and the lights are dim, augmented only by the green glow of the monitors. Danny shifts in his chair, grateful beyond words to be here, and wills Steve to live. If he can make it through the Devil's hour then he has a chance.

* * *

**Dress to impress**

Danny checks himself in the mirror one last time, like he does every day. Pants crisply pressed; loafers freshly shone; shirt smartly buttoned... yesterday he wore the yellow shirt, the butter-soft color fresh to the eye, but today it's the blue shirt, bright as a piece of Hawaiian sky made cloth. It brings out the color of his eyes, or so he's been told. He briefly contemplates a tie but decides against it; he's noticed the way Steve's eyes linger on his unbuttoned throat, and it's Steve he's dressing for, because today might be the day that Steve wakes up.

* * *

**Say the word**

Danny's a talker, always has been ever since he got his first words. He's never really thought about it, he just opens his mouth and it all spills out, thoughts and emotions all jumbled up in a rapid-fire stream of consciousness. Expressing himself with words has always come easy to him. 

Except for now. "Talk to him," the doctor said. "We don't know if he can hear you, but sometimes it helps." 

Danny sits by the bed and holds Steve's hand and has _no fucking idea_ what to say. Just when Steve needs them most, Danny's words have deserted him.

* * *

**Holding pattern**

Rosa's got twin boys at home, a pair of terrors, she's always getting called into the Principal's office to discuss their misdemeanors. Leilani's got boyfriend trouble, can't decide which one of two no-good time-wasters she wants (and Danny keeps telling her that she should ditch both of them and find someone better). Matthew's wife is trying to conceive, she's miscarried three times already and it's tearing their relationship apart. Sarah cooks elaborate dinners to try and shore up a failing marriage. 

Danny's been waiting for Steve for so long that he's on first-name terms with all of the nurses now.

* * *

**Living on a prayer**

Danny's not a praying man. He's never been a true believer, he'd had his fill of religion when he was a kid: Mass every Sunday, say three Hail Marys for your sins and the Devil take your mortal soul if you touch a girl Down There. And the only time he's been on his knees recently, well, let's just say he wasn't exactly reciting the Lord's Prayer... 

But right now he's on his knees on the cold, hard floor praying desperately to a God he's not sure even exists. Because right now Steve needs all the help he can get.

* * *

**Stasis**

Every day Danny crosses over from the world of the living to the world of… whatever it is that Steve's doing now. 

Outside the world is full of sunshine and color and life: busy people with work to do and places to go; an endless, vital rush of traffic and chatter and noise; Grace falling for some boy band and giving Danny even more grey hairs. 

Inside it's all muted shades and hushed sounds; a stillness that's not peace; and Steve lying silent and unmoving in a hospital bed. 

Outside, life rolls on, everything changes, and Steve's getting left behind.

* * *

**Missing in action**

Danny starts to skip visits. Just the occasional one at first, and always with a good reason: Grace has a school play; an investigation takes him off-island; an old friend blows into town and calls Danny up for a beer… And then one day he's too tired, he just can't face it, and it's not like Steve even knows he's there. He has to look after his own health, right? 

The doctor frowns disapprovingly at him. "He called for you before the end, Detective Williams, but you weren't there." 

And Danny wakes in a cold sweat, vowing to try harder.

* * *

**Denial**

No. If he doesn't listen then it won't be true. If he doesn't acknowledge the doctor when he tells him to prepare himself for the very real possibility that Steve will never wake up then it won't happen that way. If he doesn't _hear_ when the doctor uses words like _infection_ and _high-grade antibiotics_ then they can't possibly refer to Steve. Because this isn't happening, Danny won't let it be happening, it's all wrong. The doctor's talking as though there's no hope, and Danny won't have that, because none of this can be real and Steve is going to live.

* * *

**Drowning**

Danny sloshes another three fingers of scotch into the glass and swallows it down. _"Maybe you're not as alone here as you think, Danno."_ He can hear Steve as clearly as if it was yesterday, and it's a bitter memory because now Steve's _fucking_ well going to die and leave Danny alone again, and Danny's going to end up as miserable as he was before Steve came along with his goofy smiles and warm heart and it's not _fucking_ fair of Steve to do this to him. 

At this moment Danny hates Steve almost as much as he hates himself.

* * *

**Closure**

"It's time to go, Danny," Chin says. Danny pauses at the hallway mirror to straighten his tie. He hardly recognizes the grim reaper looking back at him from the glass, dark suit and black tie accentuating stubble-rough cheeks and pallid skin that hasn't seen the sun in too long. He looks like a man with nothing left to lose, and that's almost true. 

"I'm ready," he says, heading for the door. The law won't let him exact personal retribution on the lowlives who butchered Steve, but he's going to make damn sure that the judge delivers the next best thing.

* * *

**Such stuff as dreams are made on**

In his dreams, Steve is still vivid, still a very vital presence, warm and solid and _here_. Danny dreams about how they fucked, of Steve's hands and mouth on his skin, of hard muscle under his fingers and Steve's voice, cracked with want, urging him to go faster, harder, deeper, give him _more_ … 

But awake he's starting to lose Steve, to forget how he sounded and how he moved. Even the shirt and cargoes pulled from the laundry basket no longer smell right. 

When he wakes he tries in vain to hold on to the fleeting memory of Steve's smile.

* * *

**Absent without leave**

When it happens, Danny's not there. He takes the call on his cell in the parking lot at Walmart, surrounded by families packing groceries into their cars, and the everyday world around him suddenly spins away into a strange and distant blur as the doctor speaks. "It was very sudden, Detective Williams," he says. "You couldn't know - no-one could have predicted it. You mustn't blame yourself." But Danny does blame himself, of course he does. Steve was alone – his friend, his partner, his _backup_ wasn't there when he needed him - and that knowledge will live with Danny forever.

* * *

**One last time**

No somber suit and tie today, he's wearing the blue shirt, Steve's favorite. Today's gathering isn't a wake for what's lost, it's a celebration of a life well-lived, of courage and determination. It's an ending but also a beginning. 

The others are waiting outside. "We'll see you back here afterwards," Kono says, hugging him. "Anything you need, we're here for you, brah." He knows he's going to need them in the tough months ahead. 

But when he lays eyes on the wheelchair van he's rented to bring Steve home today he can't suppress a grin. 

Steve's going to _hate_ it.


End file.
